


Lay Me Down

by AngelofGallifrey



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:16:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3723451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofGallifrey/pseuds/AngelofGallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had never believed in the whole idea of being heartbroken before it had actually happened to him. He had always believed it was just a massive crock of shit invented by whiny teenagers who couldn't cope with being alone. So it had been a significant shock when he suddenly realised that he was going through the same thing those 'whiny teenagers' went through every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I was listening to Sam Smith's 'Lay Me Down' the other day and for some reason I immediately pictured a scenario like this. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN CRABSTICKZ OR KICKTHEPJ BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE BAD. NEITHER DO I OWN ANY OF THE OTHER YOUTUBERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY
> 
> THE TITLE COMES FROM THE SONG OF THE SAME NAME BY SAM SMITH
> 
> I CLAIM NO PROFIT FROM WRITING THIS
> 
> And yes, I know kickthestickz isn't real. It's all just for fun.

Chris often wondered, how the hell had it come to this? Had it been something he said? Something someone else said? Or had they just...drifted apart? Naturally. Calmly. Ordinarily.

That was the thing Chris hated the most about that idea. It sounded way too bloody calm, when both he and PJ knew they had done everything in their power to cling onto that relationship like it was the only thing worth having. 

Which it had been, in a way. To Chris, at least.

Which brought up the single devastating question - had it been the same for PJ?

Had PJ woken up every day leading up to the inevitable final conversation with his heart sinking like a stone, his throat raw like sandpaper and his eyes gritty with dried tears, stuck to the bed like glue for the fear that if he got up, that terrible conversation would finally take place? Had his heart leapt in his chest at every touch, casual or otherwise, at every moment of eye contact in the desperate hope that they would find something,  _anything_ other than indifference there? 

Chris didn't think he would ever forget that surreal moment when PJ had finally looked him square in the eye for the first time in months, and he had just  _known_ that this was it - this was the moment he had been trying to put off for far too long now, and bloody hell, it had hurt more than anything had ever hurt him before. Three years' worth of love, laughter, joy, pain, tears, hardship, _survival_...all finished in a matter of seconds. 

Chris still remembered the feeling of his heart breaking.

He had never believed in the whole idea of being heartbroken before it had actually happened to him. He had always believed it was just a massive crock of shit invented by whiny teenagers who couldn't cope with being alone. So it had been a significant shock when he suddenly realised that he was going through the same thing those 'whiny teenagers' went through every day. And it hurt. More than he could ever express. But he had said nothing. Numbness had spread slowly through his body as PJ began to form the dreaded words. A piercing squeal had rung in his ears, deafening and yet all too quiet as PJ's voice, his wonderful, beautiful voice that had been  _his_ for the past three years, shattered Chris' fragile heart in a matter of words. 

_I'm sorry, Chris, but...I think we need a break._

It was too much to think about now. 

Now, sitting alone in a slightly chilly, darkened flat on the outskirts of London with his knees drawn up to his chest, a cold cup of tea sitting untouched on the table by his side, silence coating everything like a thick blanket, Chris wished he could be anywhere else but here. Outside. Laughing with his mates. Even going for a drink down the pub was preferable to this... _emptiness_. 

If his past self could see him now...he would probably laugh, give him a shove and say, "Get up you lazy bastard. Who are, you - that girl from Twilight? It's sunny outside. Open the bloody curtains and stop being a pussy."

But that was Chris before or during PJ. A happier version of Chris. A more light-hearted version of Chris. The Chris that actually wanted to do those things. This Chris was different. This Chris had a PJ-shaped hole in his heart, no matter how pathetic and clichéd that sounded. This Chris would rather mope around pining after a guy who had probably already forgotten about him than go outside and move on with his life.

This Chris was broken.

Sighing and curling a little further into himself, Chris closed his eyes, willing the plethora of images bombarding his senses to just disappear. His and PJ's first date. His and PJ's first kiss. His and PJ's second, third and fourth kisses. Their first night together. VidCon last year when they had travelled with Dan and Phil on the plane and had the best weekend Chris could remember. He remembered the little things. The way PJ would smile that small smile at him when he was strumming absently on his guitar and Chris was sitting a little way off on the sofa, grinning wryly at him. Making a cup of coffee in the morning before finding PJ's arms sliding around his waist, and Chris tensing in surprise before relaxing and leaning back into his solid warmth, smiling when he felt a gentle press of lips against the side of his neck. Sitting on the sofa watching Prison Break whilst PJ sat next to him, sketching his side profile as subtly as he could, yet still not fooling Chris. 

These images couldn't make Chris cry anymore. He had cried too much. He didn't think his body was physically capable of producing any more tears than it already had. So instead he took a deep, shuddering breath and was about to slowly slide to his feet when his phone started to ring. Frowning, he let out a self-suffering sigh. It was probably Tom again, ringing for another attempt at persuading him into playing a character in his latest video. First Dan and Phil, then Jack, Tom, Ben, Hazel, Emma, Luke...the list went on and on. So many people who cared about him and wanted him to get better. Chris was grateful, really, he was, but sometimes...sometimes he just wanted - no,  _needed_  - some peace and quiet. It had been over a month now. Sure, that was a long time to be pining at home over an ex...but still. They had no reason to worry about him. He was fine. Really.

Taking a moment to brace himself for the sudden gush of concern he was certain he was about to be subjected to, he picked up his phone and pressed accept, not bothering to check who it was. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, Chris."

Chris froze and very nearly dropped the phone, his jaw dropping open in shock. There were a couple of seconds of silence before the voice spoke again, soft and with a hint of that concern that Chris had got so used to over the past month. 

"Chris? Are you there?"

"Y-yes. I'm here."

"Oh, good. I - I thought you'd hung up on me for a second there."

Chris was silent. He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream and yell and throw the phone at the wall and then stamp on its shattered remains. He didn't know what to do. All he could focus on was that it was  _PJ_ on the phone and he was finally talking to him after a month of absolute silence. A hundred questions rose in his mind all at the same time, each one clamouring to be heard upon the tip of his tongue, but finally all he was able to say was, "H-how are you?"

"I'm...I'm good, Chris. I'm alright. I just...y'know. Me."

Chris couldn't help a small, breathless laugh, and he was momentarily shocked at how broken it sounded. Yes, he knew PJ. He knew PJ better than anyone else knew PJ. 

"What about you? We - we haven't spoken in a while," PJ added quietly, almost nervously. 

Chris did laugh at that, and this one was bitter. He could almost hear the wince from the other end of the line. "Yeah, you could say that again."

There was a moment's silence before PJ said in the smallest voice he had ever heard him use, "I really am sorry, Chris."

"Yeah, you've said that before," mumbled Chris in reply, hating himself for the inevitable anger spilling almost uncontrollably from between his lips and yet wanting nothing more than to reach through the phone and punch the man in the jaw.

"That's because it's true. Look, Chris, I know you're angry with me. Jesus, you have every right to be. But...could you...could you hear me out?"

Chris wanted to shout 'no' as loudly as he possibly could down the phone. And yet, even when he felt the word forming upon his tongue, he realised that no matter how hard he tried he would never be able to say it. Never in a million years. So instead he let out a resigned sigh and said, "OK. Just...OK."

And they talked.

***

The conversation lasted far longer than Chris had expected it to. He was sure it was long enough for PJ to seriously regret it when he received his phone bill later on. He couldn't help a small smile at the thought. Because despite the very large bill he was certain to be receiving, PJ had carried on talking. He had talked and talked and Chris had listened, occasionally adding in a word here and there, but largely silent, listening to the sound of PJ's voice. And with every word he felt a tiny portion of the weight that had been sitting upon his shoulders for the past month begin to fade away. The hurt was still there, but he felt lighter. Braver. Like he could finally breathe again.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I - I'm sorry for not talking to you for so long...for leaving without an explanation. It was a dick move, I know. And you have every right to be angry at me. Fuck it, I'm angry at myself..."

"Why, Peej?"

That threw the man for a second, rendering him momentarily speechless before he was able to stutter, "W-what d'you mean? I just told you why..."

"No, why are you phoning me? Why are you telling me this? Sure, I now know why you left. I was being an annoying arsehole and you couldn't put up with it anymore. But...why didn't you tell me that sooner? Fuck, why didn't you sit down and give me a proper talk instead of  _leaving_ me? I've been driving myself crazy this past month wondering whether you even remembered who I was. Whether you thought about me as much as I thought about you."

There was another moment of silence, and Christ, Chris had had enough of silence between them. There had been nothing but silence for so long, and he was sick of it. 

"You weren't being an annoying arsehole. That's not what I said. And...I just...I just had to get my head together. After I...left...I had to figure out what to do. I didn't know what to do. I was lost and sad and...I know it sounds hypocritical. I know it  _is_ hypocritical. I just...I had to talk to a lot of people, and they basically all told me the same thing - that I was an idiot for throwing away something as special as what I had with you and...and it took a while to realise that what they were saying was right. I am an idiot and I shouldn't have thrown you away like that, thinking you'd just come back if I ever asked. It was selfish and an absolutely terrible thing to do. It just...it took me a month to figure that out."

"So - what?" Chris asked, feeling a tiny spark of hope ignite in his chest. 

"I guess...I don't know. I know you're angry with me but...I was hoping that maybe we could...meet up, sometime? Just for a drink. And a catch up."

Chris let out a long breath, something akin to excitement squirming in the pits of his stomach. However, he forced himself to contain it as he said seriously, "It'll take a while, Peej. It'll take a while for me to trust you again, at least as much as I did before. But you know that already. You know me."

"I know, I get that Chris, I promise you we'll take it slow..."

"I know you know, you arse. Look - yes. Yes, OK? We'll go and get a drink. I - I'd like to see you again. Fuck it, I want to see you again. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," PJ said, and the relief and nervous excitement was tangible in his voice, making Chris smile the tiniest of smiles. 

Maybe it would be OK.

"I'll come to London. How about Saturday? We can go to that pub near your apartment, yeah? The one we always used to go to."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"OK. I'll...I'll see you on Saturday then."

"Yeah. See you then."

There was a moment of quiet filled only by the sound of PJ's relieved sigh from the other end of the line before it went dead, and Chris was left standing alone in his apartment once more. 

But this time, he wasn't entirely alone. 

This time, maybe he could be happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, whaddaya think? I hope you enjoyed it! It's been an idea I've had knocking about for a while now, so I thought I'd share it with you. :) Please leave a comment/kudos if you have the time. :) See you!


End file.
